


we can never be irreparably broken

by shecouldbeamazing



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, Crossover, Feels, Gen, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Wholock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:41:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shecouldbeamazing/pseuds/shecouldbeamazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John Watson is saved by the Doctor's companions and is whisked away on some adventures, but John can't stop thinking about Sherlock and his death. Will the Doctor be able to help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	we can never be irreparably broken

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a long time ago and I just now finished it. Here's my attempt at wholock. I'll just leave this here.

John Watson was just crossing the street when it happened.

He really should have been paying more attention but he forgot to get milk from the store. He was always forgetting to get it these days because usually Sherlock would-

Well, you know.

John was halfway home when he realized it. He didn’t even use the cab, he just walked. Gripping his cane, he looked over at Tesco’s. Why did he keep going there? He hated the place and the chip and pin machine would never cooperate…

Still, it was the closest place…

And _no_ he wasn’t thinking of Sherlock.

He wasn’t thinking about him at all. His knuckles went white as he held his cane in an iron grip. No flashbacks today, John, he thought to himself.

But the problem was…

John _was_ thinking about Sherlock.

That’s why he didn’t notice the blue minivan that decided to take a left turn that day. He didn’t notice until the last minute when he caught the driver’s eye and he tried to get out of the way.

But damn it his leg-

John’s life flashed before his eyes, little moments that really only mattered to him, and Sherlock was in each one.

 

XXX

 

“Is he alright?” a soft voice whispered.

“He should be,” another _deeper_ voice answered, “I’ve checked his vitals- what- fifteen times already?”

“Oh shut up.”

“I’m just saying…I mean, you keep asking the same questions-”

“I said shut up!” the voice hissed back, half-annoyed.

“Blergh,” John groaned as he heard the bickering continue. He was on a hospital bed, or at least it felt like it…he _hoped_ he was at the hospital…maybe he was dreaming.

Or dead.

Oh god, what if he was dead?

There was a gasp. “He’s waking up!”

“Yes, Amy, I know,” replied the other in a very exasperated tone, “I _am_ a nurse-”

_Oh, a nurse. Good, a hospital- that’s good._

John opened his eyes slowly and saw a pretty young woman with green eyes staring down at him with fiery, red hair and a mousy, brown haired young fellow standing beside her who didn’t even remotely look like a nurse.

This wasn’t the hospital- it didn’t even _look_ like a hospital-

The _hell_?

He shot straight up but suddenly felt a great searing pain shoot through his head that nearly blinded him. It took half a minute till he could open his eyes again.

“Take it easy now,” the man with the rather protruding nose said, pushing him gently back down. He felt bandages around his head. “Sorry about that,” he added, apologetically. “It’s better than being dead though, I suppose.”

“What happened?” he asked blearily.

“Rory saved you,” the red head Amy said gesturing towards the man beside her. She had, he noticed, a Scottish accent. “Just in time, I think. You nearly got ran over.”

“Where am I?”

Amy and the ‘nurse’ Rory just looked at each other at a loss for words.

“Well-” Amy started to explain but a rather barmy voice rang from down the hallway.

“Is our guest up yet, Ponds?”

Rolling her eyes and grinning, the Scot hollered back, “Yep! Just woke up.”

“Cool!” The door to the room swung open and in strode a man with the most ridiculous outfit John had ever seen. He was wearing a tweed jacket, a bow-tie, and was sporting the most floppy brown hair- …and to be honest he looked like a child who was failing badly at dressing as an adult.

John didn’t know whether to laugh or just feel plain uncomfortable for the man before him was just smiling madly back with too wide eyes.

“Hello!”

John didn’t really know how to respond to that at the moment. Saying _hello_ back would have been a nice start but he found himself bombarding the strange man with questions. “Uh,” he began, giving an uncomfortable laugh, “I’m sorry but who are you? And where am I because this is definitely not London-,”

The man just fiddled about with a metal rod like instrument, seeming rather distracted all of a sudden.

“No, not in London-,” the man said, cutting John off before he would work himself into a state, “We’re in the time vortex,” John started to interrupt, confused as to what that was, but he just kept talking, “You’re here because you nearly got yourself killed and well, we couldn’t let that happen,” he flipped the device he was holding in the air once and then tucked it away inside his jacket. He clapped his hands, with a wild grin, happy he actually could explain all of this over again, “We’re in a ship called the TARDIS- Time and Relative Dimension in Space, in case you didn’t know- which you shouldn’t- oh this is _Amy and Rory_ , by the way, if they haven’t told you yet and I’m the Doctor. Just the Doctor, nothing else, don’t ask me why, it just is. And don’t bother introducing; you’re John Watson- John _Hamish_ Watson to be precise- anyone who’s anyone knows that- er, you _might_ not want to get up now-”

“What the hell are you talking about? How do you know who I am?” John burst, past the point of listening anymore.

“I told you he wouldn’t take it well,” Rory muttered. The man who called himself ‘The Doctor’ shot a childish glare in his direction.

“Ahh, time vortex, yes,” he started, not really sure which question to answer first, “Well, actually I think we parked somewhere around Orion 9- can’t be sure though- I’ll have to check but-”

“How do you know who I am?” John repeated. “Did Moriarty put you up to this? Did he pay you to kidnap me? Because if he did-”

“Moriarty? Oh no! No-” The Doctor flailed his arms around in a slight panic at John’s growing rage before slipping a card in front of his face. “This fell out of your pocket. John Watson. See? We haven’t kidnapped you-”

“It sure seems like you have!”

“I can promise you we haven’t. And I’m a man of my word-,”

“Where am I?”

“In the time vortex,” the Doctor repeated, yet again confused as to how he didn’t know this by now.

“Yes,” John stressed, “but what does that _mean_?”

“We’re in space,” Amy cut in, looking at John with sympathetic eyes.

John just stared at her. “You’re not serious are you?” The Doctor looked at Rory who, with a nod, walked down the steps towards a door at the far end of the room.

“See for yourself mate,” The Doctor said quietly, trying not to overwhelm him and he slipped on out after Rory. John gave a confused glance over to Amy before following suit.          

In no time at all, John found himself stepping out into a room with a rather randomly put together console humming back at him. He had to blink several times, it was so brightly colored. It was enough to make his head start aching. As he came closer he noticed that the middle of the console was whirring, and a glass fixture was moving up and down behind a glass tube. He didn’t understand why it was doing so. He supposed he would soon find out.

John came down the steps slowly and past the console, wondering what in God’s name he’d gotten himself into this time.

He wished Sherlock were there. Maybe he would know.

But before he could dwell anymore on that fact, he stopped right before Rory and the Doctor who were waiting for him outside of a set of doors.

“Go ahead,” John said, wondering what was _really_ behind them.

Rory glanced at the Doctor before he pulled the doors inward. John had to hold onto the railing beside him. If it hadn’t been there to steady himself, he was sure he would’ve fallen over in shock. Twinkling back at him were stars. Stars and nebulas and gases and comets and the richest, most darkest colors of the universe, all close enough to touch if he let himself.

“We’re…we’re in space,” he choked out in surprise, before letting out a laugh in disbelief. “We’re in _bloody_ space.”

The Doctor gave a small grin before patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. “You’re a long way from London, I’m afraid.”

 

XXX

 

 

   
  
---  
  
It took a couple of days to actually convince John that he wasn't dreaming or dead or that he hadn’t lost it completely. It took even longer for him to get around without having an earsplitting headache. But when he did get about, he nearly got lost. And somewhere along the way, he had found the swimming pool.

Amy had heard a faint yelp come from one of the rooms and peeked in.

Apparently, the Doctor hadn't deleted that room after all, she thought. She'd have to smack him for it later that was for sure, she noted as she went in to help him.

After that embarrassing incident, John stuck to his room. But after a while, John realized just how big the ship really was and couldn’t resist going about for a little tour. He just cautioned himself on what rooms he entered. He didn’t want a repeat of the pool fiasco.

"It's dimensionally transcendental," the Doctor told him one day after he’d realized John hadn’t been subjected to that speech yet.

"Oh," he replied. He stared at his feet for a bit before shaking his head, still not getting it. “And that means?”

"It's bigger on the inside."

"Oh...So, you're saying we're basically in the inside of a Mary Poppins bag?"

"Mary Poppins?" he asked, confused.

"It's a movie.” The Doctor gave him a bemused look, having never heard of it before. “Oh come on, everyone knows Mary Poppins. She has a little umbrella and she,” John thought about singing _Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_ but thought better of it. He just sighed and gave up. “...It...doesn't matter.”

Soon after that, John learned that talking with the Doctor was probably not a good idea. After he had brought it up, the Doctor just started blathering on about how _yes_ , his ship _could_ be seen as a bigger on the inside bag, except not really at all, because it was a _police box_ , a **blue** one to be exact and it was alive; much different than a bag.

The whole time, John couldn't help but be reminded of how Sherlock used to do that. How he would just go on and on and on if no one stopped him.

And then the Doctor would give him a goofy grin, and the thought immediately went away.

 

XXX

 

"Are you okay?" Amy asked one night when she found John in the kitchen making tea.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"I mean...ever since you've been here I can't help but think something's wrong."

He gave her a fake smile. "Nothing's wrong."

"Of course there is. I’m not stupid. There has to be a reason why you don't want to go home," she said crossing her arms.

He remained silent as he poured the hot tea into a TARDIS blue cup.

“I mean, I know you’re probably not thinking things through right now…when I first travelled with the Doctor, I didn’t want to go back. I was running away from my problems and I thought that’d make everything better; except running from your problems doesn’t solve them and we all have to face them…”

"…Don't you miss anyone?"

John sat down and stirred his tea, a faraway look in his eyes, before he replied, "Every day."

Amy didn't go any further; she just poured herself a cup and sat down across from him. She understood, the only way Amelia Pond could. As she crossed her legs and sipped some of her tea, she started to explain why she came and found him here. It was the middle of the night and the Doctor was off on one of his late night adventures. She couldn't sleep. It was rare that she now had someone other than Rory to talk with.

"The Doctor said you could come on an adventure with us tomorrow," she added brightly, "now that your head's better."

"An adventure?"

"Yeah," she laughed, realizing how juvenile the phrase sounded. "We save people. But sometimes we just visit planets or get lost. It's good fun. I remember once, we all got stuck on this pirate ship and I got all dressed up to save Rory from a killer mermaid..."

John laughed into his cup as she recounted the story for him, remembering how Mycroft had once told him Sherlock wanted to be a pirate.

 

XXX

 

 

   
  
---  
  
As the weeks went on by, John found life on the TARDIS to be enjoyable. They'd gone to Barcelona, the planet where dogs had no noses and John nearly adopted one of them himself. He had named him Gladstone and everything but Amy refused to let a dog in the TARDIS. The Doctor was on his side as well, saying something about a dog named K-9. But Amy wouldn't relent and so they left Barcelona dogless, but happy all the same.

Then they visited Cleopatra for who knows why. Apparently, the Doctor had some interesting history with her which made him go as red as a cherry. There had also been a killer "demigod" on the loose, which turned out to be nothing more than a stranded alien who had lost his way and had a really bad temper.

On the downside, John had gotten sunburnt from running about- Lestrade made tanning look so easy- but it was worth it all to hear the Doctor’s approval of all the logic he’d displayed. It was all of that crime work with Sherlock, he wanted to say. He had rubbed off on him. 

Oh and only just yesterday, they'd visited the planet of the hats.

Amy had to chase the Doctor around to get him to take one of the hats off. It was a fez and neither Amy nor Rory liked it on him for some reason. John thought he’d look fine, just a little madder is all. But Amy hated it, more than anyone else it seemed. She even threatened to call a woman named River if he didn't cooperate. Whoever this River was, she must make quite the impression because the next second, he had abandoned the fez and disappeared into one of the shops. John bent down to grab the fez; hopefully he could sneak it back in the TARDIS without Amy noticing.

He was glad no one saw him do this.

Because, as he did, he saw a familiar hat, one that had earflaps and could've easily been a death frisbee.

It was a deerstalker. The same one John would always pester Sherlock with.

The one he'd forgotten about until now.

Tears stinging his eyes, he grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket, paying the cashier with a strange sort of alien note the Doctor had handed him before landing.

No matter where he went or what he did, no matter how distracted or happy he got, he couldn't forget that man.

He wouldn't.

 

XXX

 

 “I know you’ve lost someone,” the Doctor said. John had been travelling with the Doctor for two months now; it was like a never ending dream. John didn’t turn around as he looked down at Earth. It was 2012 there. Amy and Rory were milling about for their anniversary for a few days and the Doctor promised to stay put. John would hold him to it. Amy didn’t need to wait another 14 years for him to come around.

John looked down at the planet with an empty gaze, knowing that 2012 was the year Sherlock died. He couldn’t go back. Somehow, the Doctor was rubbing off on him now. He just wanted him to flip the levers so they could just run. Run and run and never stop.

“I know it’s hard,” he went on, knowing John was listening even though he showed no sign of acknowledgement. “I know exactly what you’re going through…probably a lot more than I should…but you can’t give up hope.”

“What makes you think I have? He was my best friend; he could have found a way out-,”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“No! Of course I’m not alright! I saw him, Doctor. He was dead, right before my eyes and I could do nothing to stop it from happening. I’ve played it over and over and over again in my head and I hate myself because I know I could have prevented it. If I had just stayed with him, you know, he wouldn’t be rotting away in that grave,” he turned around, consumed with self-hate and grief. “Do you have any idea how that feels?”

The Doctor just looked at him, at a loss. He did, he felt like replying. But mutual guilt wouldn’t help the situation any.

“From what I’ve heard of this Sherlock,” he began quietly, deflecting any emotions he was feeling, as he usually did, “…he doesn’t sound like a man who gives up. He’s probably still out there John. You’ve just got to find him.”

After that, neither of them said anything for a while. John stole a couple of glances at the Doctor once or twice and he could tell something was haunting him.

He was over nine hundred years old.

John fiddled with his cane.

This man probably had more ghosts haunting him than anyone else he’d ever known.

 

XXX

 

 

   
  
---  
  
The idea formed in his head the day they landed on Alegría 7. The Doctor was excited about this one and he was determined to make John happy for once; really and truly happy.

“Ahhh, Alegría 7!” The Doctor exclaimed, striding out of the TARDIS with his companions in tow. Amy gave Rory and John a look. After all of this travelling, he still acted like a ten year old boy who had just discovered the videogame section at the mall and couldn’t wait to play with all the games. He twirled about, arms out, breathing in the air. “Most peaceful planet in the universe. Everyone here is happy. No disagreements, no cases of depression- ever since this planet has been colonized there have been no wars! None at all!” He looked at the people walking past with admiration. “Let me tell you, we all could learn a thing or two from them.”

John followed the Doctor’s gaze as he looked around. They didn’t appear different…they even looked human.

 _Probably because they are, John_ , he thought to himself. It was strange, seeing humans on a planet that wasn’t earth.

The only thing that was really odd about them was they were always smiling. There were no frowns or blank faces, there was only contentment. It kind of disturbed John a little.

“Come along John!” The Doctor called happily from up the road. John was still standing alone looking at everything; the Ponds had already followed him into a shop. Walking towards him, he saw that he had led them into a biscuit shop.

He rolled his eyes and stepped inside.

Nearly a million years in the future and a billion light years away from Earth and all he could think to do was walk into a biscuit shop?

 _Only the Doctor_ , he mused.

Inside the shop, John was greeted by Rory Williams, looking as awkward as humanly possible as a woman was badgering him about some biscuits.

“Please sir, won’t you try one?” The woman was plump herself and was absolutely beaming. There was certain forced sort of kindness in her tone though. Rory was just looking back at her with wide eyes, wondering what he should say. It looked delicious, but he didn’t know if it was safe. Travelling with the Doctor had…well it made Rory paranoid.

“Oh I don’t know-,”

“It’s my world famous recipe! Everyone loves them. Come now! You’ve got to try one.”

“World famous you say?” The Doctor questioned with a boyish grin, popping out from behind an aisle.

“And when she says world famous, she means it!” A boy in his teens added from behind the counter. He was grinning from ear to ear, eating one himself. “Everyone on Alegría eats them. No one can go without them!”

John looked at the place warily. It was very futuristic, very white, very neat, very clean…it didn’t look like this place collected dirt…Maybe dirt was nonexistent in this place.

The spotless appearance of this whole planet was just putting him off. But the Doctor didn’t seem to notice or mind or maybe he did and he just ignored it. John could never tell.

“Won’t you try one?” The woman pressed. Amy nudged Rory, not wanting to seem rude. He gave Amy a hesitant look.

“Come on, it’s just a biscuit,” Amy said and she grabbed one herself. Rory grabbed one reluctantly and the Doctor snagged a couple.

The woman spotted John and held out her platter. She looked up at him with a smile, her blonde hair perfectly in place. He wanted to say no but he had the feeling he couldn’t. The Doctor was looking at him expectantly and he felt the urge not to let him down. He knew he was the whole reason they were even there in the first place. 

Giving her a small smile, he imagined it was Mrs. Hudson and took one, which, thinking back on it, was probably the wrong thing to do.

 

XXX

 

 

   
  
---  
  
John woke up in a daze. He groaned and sat up quickly. He didn’t remember falling asleep. All he remembered was…he was in a shop? And the Doctor was there and Amy and Rory…

And now he was here…He was back in London in his flat. Except no, he couldn’t be back there. Not in London…and especially not here.

“Mrs. Hudson?” he called. John got to his feet and nearly fell over. His head felt light like if he walked any further, he would collapse. His legs felt like jellybut he had a fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know why. “Mrs. Hudson, I think I need to get to the hospital,” he slurred, grappling onto the sides of the walls. John made his way to the staircase, tripping over his feet a few times. Had he been drugged? He couldn’t remember… “Mrs. Hudson-”

He couldn’t find her.

In a daze, he grasped the railing of the staircase and tried to go down the steps.

 _Bad idea John,_ he thought as soon as he did it.

His foot slipped.

He toppled over and closed his eyes, expecting his head to come crashing down on the hardwood flooring. But someone had caught him, someone taller and more masculine than Mrs. Hudson, someone who smelled like 243 types of tobacco ash and-

He looked up and went as white as a sheet.

“Hello John.”

 

XXX 

 

“John?”

John was just staring at him. It was Sherlock. It was _him_. He was wearing one of his too-tight shirts where the buttons looked like they were about to pop off. He looked he always did; like he had never left.

But he couldn’t be here. He _couldn’t_. He was dead. He had to be dead. He felt the warm feeling in his stomach grow and he felt his hands shake. He was happy, he realized.

But it was a forced happiness and his head started to ache.

“Are you alright?”

John swallowed.

“How- how can you be here? You were dead- I saw you-,”

“Dead?” Sherlock repeated, slightly confused. “What are you talking about?” John gaped at him.

“You were…you were dead. Don’t you remember? You jumped off that hospital! And Moriarty-,” John stopped talking as Sherlock just stared at him like he was insane. He felt a surge of anger run through him.“I _know_ I saw you! We were on the phone- I was _there_ when you killed yourself! I even checked your pulse!”

Sherlock was just shaking his head, his eyebrows furrowing. John recognized that look. And he didn’t like it.

“I didn’t just imagine it, Sherlock!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t jump off a building, John.”

John gave Sherlock a good look and he felt something was wrong. He didn’t know what exactly until that moment.

_Sherlock would never lie to him._

“Who are you?” John winced and put a hand to his now throbbing head. The pain was building.

Sherlock just stood up straight with his hands behind his back studying John with a concerned look on his face. “John, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Don’t try and change the subject! Who are you! Because you’re sure as hell not Sherlock Holmes!” John blinked up at him angry and confused. Nothing made sense…how did he even get here? How was Sherlock suddenly alive?

This was like a dream.

…A _dream_.

Oh.

And that’s when he really looked around the place and noticed how everything was clean. It wasn’t the flat’s usual mess. There were no cars honking or the casual yell for a taxi from down the road. It was quiet. There weren’t any birds squawking.

He felt the fuzzy feeling burn out and he put his head in his hands. The headache increased until he couldn’t bear it anymore. He felt Sherlock’s hands on his shoulders asking him what was wrong, his voice growing fainter and fainter.

John felt himself slip into unconsciousness as he passed out.

Well…as he woke up. 

 

XXX

 

“You can save him, can’t you?”

The Doctor was sitting in his little swing under the TARDIS console, messing with wires. He took the goggles off his eyes and looked at John. “Save who?”

“Sherlock.”

It was incredible how quickly his expression became grim. John knew the response before he’d said it. “I can’t.”

“And why not?”

“You know why,” he answered, before going back to twiddle with some wires.

It had been three weeks since Alegria 7, but ever since that night John couldn’t sleep. After he had woken up, it had taken a lot of convincing from the Doctor that it wasn’t real; that the people of Alegria 7 liked to make their people happy by drugging them so they had no urge to fight or argue or be human at all. It was why there were never any wars. A side effect of the drug was lucid dreams and John happened to find himself unconscious for most of the trip there.

Ever since then, John kept having that dream; where Sherlock was alive, where his death never happened.

He left that planet with an idea. It only took him until now to realize it. He’d been travelling all throughout time and space and only now did he come to the simple conclusion that he could easily go back to that day at the hospital.

He could stop Sherlock.

“Do I?” John countered. “You’re always saying time can be rewritten, well why can’t I change this? I’ll be _saving_ him!”

“Not all of time can be changed…his death is a fixed point, you can’t change that. Believe me, I know what happens.”

“I know you do. I mean, Silencio Lake, Utah,” The Doctor snapped his eyes back on John, “as far as I know, that was a pretty fixed point-”

“How do you know about that?”

“Doesn’t matter. You died Doctor. You died but you’re still here, you obviously changed _something_ so why can’t you do the same for Sherlock?”

The Doctor glared at his fingers, not wanting to explain anything. His thoughts immediately went back to the day when Rose had saved her father. It went out of hand so quickly and he had died anyway. He sighed and tried not to think about it but the memories came flooding back. Mars, River-

The Doctor sighed and finally brought his gaze to meet John’s.

“I didn’t die in Utah; not because I rewrote time- it just didn’t happen. It’s a long, complicated story- but…Sherlock _is_ dead and I can’t risk it-”

“You save people every day! Everyday I’m with you, you save every single one. What’s one more person?” John was starting to get angry but he couldn’t give up, not without an explanation.

“I don’t save everyone.”

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t possible! I can’t save everyone! If I could I would, but I can’t!” John’s usually kitten-like expression turned into a steely resolve as he took in the words he was saying.

“If you can’t save him, then what’s the point of you?” John sniffed and turned around, going back up the stairs and to his room.

“John-” The Doctor began quietly, wanting to apologize, but John kept going. His anger and disappointment hit him hard.

No matter what he did, that’s what he’d always be: a disappointment. The Doctor sunk back into his swing and sighed. Would he ever get anything right?

John walked into his room, feeling the emptiness that Sherlock’s death had left him with harder than ever before. The Doctor told him to never give up hope…funny, isn’t it, how he’s the one who gives it and then just takes it away.

_Heroes don’t exist, John._

Yeah, he thought, as he laid down in bed and closed his eyes.

 _They don’t._

XXX

 

The Ponds and John were still asleep when the Doctor landed in a small, abandoned alleyway. He’d put the engines on silent- he’d been getting better at that lately- and he had at least 7 hours to do as he pleased while everyone was asleep.

The Doctor peeked his head out of the TARDIS with wide eyes. He kept forgetting to do environment checks, but it looked safe. It was London 2012, after all. The only thing he really had to worry about was the fact that he might run into himself. Again.

Brushing the thought aside, he locked the TARDIS and straightened up, fixing his bow-tie absentmindedly and smoothing down his lapels. He knew what he had to do. It was just going about it that seemed a bit difficult.

 

XXX

 

After roaming aimlessly around the city, gazing at the London Eye and wondering if he could take a spin around Cardiff, he found the place he was looking for. It was an apartment complex. Not very clean but it was still habitable. He found himself pressing the buzzer after a matter of seconds. The person on the other end hesitated before speaking.

“Hello?” The Doctor grinned a little, recognizing the fake curiosity and the underlying truth of boredom behind the one syllable.

“Yes, um, I’ve heard you have a rat problem and I’ve come to have a look around.”

“…I don’t have a rat problem.”

“Mind if I check?” _It’s not like you have anything to hide_ , he thought to himself. _Or do you?_   The thought must have crossed the man’s mind as well.

“Sure,” he replied.

           

XXX

 

The Doctor found himself standing outside of the man’s apartment door in a matter of minutes (he had tripped up the stairs a little more than he wanted to admit). The hallway was horribly lit and he found himself smelling an awful stench. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as the door swung open and he found himself standing face to face with a dark haired man with pale blue eyes. He looked slightly disheveled and there were shadows under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept for days. He could see three nicotine patches latched onto his arm and he could smell a faint whiff of smoke lingering about the flat.

The Doctor regarded him cautiously, but he knew this had to be him. After all of those times John talked about him…he couldn’t be anyone else.

“May I come in?”

The man just stepped aside, allowing him to step in happily. There was an extreme amount of clutter, mainly papers and there were maps all around the room. Books were in piles everywhere. It seemed as if he were searching for something but what the Doctor didn’t know.

“Who are you?” the man said after a while, after looking him over for about a minute.

“Just here to help,” he said simply. “Rats, you know. I hate rats-,”

“You aren’t an exterminator.” The man said abruptly. “You wouldn’t hurt a fly, even if you wanted to.”

 “Sorry?”

“The way you’re dressed, it would be ridiculous to assume a man like you contains enough will power to kill anything, even as insignificant as a rat. Perhaps you’re going for the harmless child look. You don’t even have the proper equipment or credentials. But all of that doesn’t matter. What _does_ is: no one else knows I live here except for a select few. People I trust. No one would have been able to find me so easily and by the state of the scuffs on your shoes, you’ve only been walking about for a few hours. I don’t have a rat problem and it’s terribly easy to tell when someone is lying so why don’t you stop pretending and tell me who you are and what do you want?”

The Doctor stared at him for a long while until he let out a sigh. It was always the outfit that gave it away. The scuffs on the shoes though, that was clever.

“I’m a friend…well a friend of a friend. John Watson? I think you know him…”

The man’s breath hitched when he heard the name and a forlorn expression crossed his face. “What happened? Is he alright?”

“Well, I…yes he’s fine-,”

“No he isn’t. He _isn’t_!” He found himself shouting. The Doctor looked slightly confused. “He’s been missing. I’ve checked everywhere- London, Cardiff, Dublin- I’ve looked everywhere. There are no records of him ever checking into hotels- he isn’t-” He stopped talking as he noticed the shocked expression on the Doctor’s face. His eyes turned to slits and he stepped closer to him. “Where is he?”

“I told you- he’s fine but-,”

“You know where he is. Take me to him. Now!”

“I can’t do that, Sherlock.” The Doctor rocked on his heels with his hands in the air, hoping addressing him by name would calm him down. It only made him more agitated. He wasn’t sure how long John’s been missing or how to go about this, but he knew he had to do something.

He really had to think through his plans more.

“Why not?” Sherlock’s deep voice shook with slight rage but he couldn’t compose his emotions for long now, knowing that this odd man knew where his best friend was.

“He still thinks you’re dead. I didn’t realize it until now that you weren’t. I’ve been trying to help him like you did. He’s seldom happy- but it isn’t possible. He needs you, Sherlock, but I can’t take both of you with me. You belong in London, nowhere else.”

Sherlock said nothing after a while. He’s seen the Doctor lie and it was terrible. He seemed sincere at the moment. There were no tells he could recognize.      

“Are you saying I should go back out there?” he asked incredulous, after a beat.

“Yes! You can’t just let him go on thinking you’re dead-”

“It isn’t time yet.” He said turning around, shuffling papers, trying to sort out his thoughts. The lack of sleep was getting to him. “I still have things to work out-”

“He’s wants to go home, Sherlock. I’ve never denied my friends that but you’ve got to tell him. He’s been very depressed lately and I’m afraid that-”

Sherlock shook his head. “Who are you? I know you’re a traveler. I know you have no proper occupation and you’re not as dull as you look, but why is John with you?”

“I’m no one important…,” he replied with a simple grin that looked fake in itself. Sherlock didn’t question him. “My friends saved John from an oncoming car in the street. He never really left after that…but I’ve always sort of known he’d want to come back here. He just…he needs you and I can’t let him come back without you there. He might do something he’ll regret and if I can’t help him no one can. Except you.”

Sherlock looked at him and it was then that the Doctor saw it: he was tired. He wanted just as much as the Doctor to come back to John and say that he wasn’t dead, but he needed to work out all of the kinks. He needed more time.

“How long do you need?” he asked quietly, placing his hand on the doorknob.

Sherlock looked at him warily but there was something about the Doctor that instantly made you trust him, even if you didn’t want to.

“Three years,” he answered. “I need three years, at least.”    

 

 XXX

 

John knew the Doctor had stopped in London.

He could recognize that city anywhere. In fact, he was about to step about into the familiar atmosphere when the Doctor stumbled inside saying they couldn’t stay and only a few seconds passed until the ship was zooming back through the vortex.

They were on a strange planet now where confetti seemed to rain down from the skies. Confetti Valley, the Doctor nicknamed it, which really was quite ridiculous, but John calmed down after realizing it didn’t _really_ rain confetti. The people there were just really overenthusiastic about everything.

Fireworks were starting to fill the sky and the sun hadn’t even set yet. The smell of barbeque, despite its alien origins, smelled quite intoxicating. There was singing wafting through from behind some tents and others were having drinking contests. John didn’t know what the occasion was, but it must’ve been pretty important to bring about such a celebration. John glimpsed through the crowd and saw nothing but smiling, happy people. But it wasn’t the strange, fixed expressions of fake happiness that he had witnessed at Algeria 7. It was genuine and full of mirth.

He wondered to himself if he would ever be one of those people again.

The thought was one he often mulled over.

He was pulled out of his reverie as a woman popped up out of nowhere and started to pull the Doctor over to the celebration. He couldn’t exactly bring himself away from her. Amy noticed John’s confusion and came over, arms crossed with an exasperated look on her face. She explained to him that this was River, the woman who liked killing the Doctor’s hats, but she wouldn’t elaborate any further after that. She kept saying everything was too complicated.

But John got the drift.

It had been nearly half a year and he’d never seen her until now.

They mustn’t have seen each other often.

After a while, John realized that Amy and Rory had strolled over together hand in hand to get some food. He was alone.

Alone. Well, that wasn’t really a surprise.

John looked between the two couples and found himself quite out of place.

Everyone else had someone except for him.

Even after all this time, nothing really changed.

 

XXX

 

John found himself at the top of a cliff before long. The sun was setting and no one had noticed him separate himself from the group. Everyone else was too busy socializing and having a good time. He gazed out at the purple sky and the red sun and at the stars that twinkled sadly back at him. Or at least…he thought they looked sad.

Everything looked sad to him nowadays.

He glimpsed down at the bottom of the cliff. It was so far down.

Pulling his leather jacket tighter against himself from the cold, he took in a shaky breath.

It was so far a drop…but maybe…maybe he wouldn’t feel it by the time he reached the bottom.

How had it been for Sherlock?

He inched himself closer to the edge.

It seemed like he was going to find out.

 

XXX

 

He didn’t know what he was doing at the time. The rush of it all, the emptiness everything held- there was nothing else out there he wanted to see that felt worth it anymore. He was among friends and yet he felt so alone. John wanted it to be over with and he knew that if no one saw him, no one could stop him.

He closed his eyes and leant forward.

A hand clasped around his arm before he fell completely forwards, however, and pulled him backwards. John wanted to shrug himself out of the person’s grip but as he felt the higher gravity nudge him slightly forwards, he lurched himself back. The stomach lurching feeling snapped him out of his impulse and he gasped.

He felt his heart pound as he fell to the ground in shock.

John looked up at the person who saved him. It was that woman the Doctor was with, the one with the curly hair. He took a quick glance behind her and saw the Doctor looking on in surprise. Amy and Rory were running towards him now, wondering what in the world had gotten into him.

“Are you alright?” River asked gingerly.

“I’m fine,” he murmured. It was an obvious lie. But as she helped him to his feet, his hands shaking from what he had almost done, he had to convince himself he was.

 _Oh God, why did I leave him?_ John thought blinking back tears. He inhaled deeply and told Amy and Rory, “I’m fine, I’m fine-,” as they fluttered about him. He kept saying it over and over. “I’m okay really-.” Because he had to be fine. He had to be.

**What would Sherlock think?**

_Who cares what he would think_ , he argued back to himself.

_He’s dead and it’s all my fault._

XXX

 

Amy found John in the kitchen. It had become their usual meeting place. After all their adventures or when they just couldn’t sleep, the two of them would always meet here. John would put the kettle on and wait. Amy would always come. At first, it was mere coincidence that they found the other in the kitchen, grabbing a snack and enjoying the peace and quiet. Then it just became routine. When the Doctor was getting on their last nerve, they’d come and have a cup of tea. If Amy and Rory had a fight, Amy would come in and John would sit and they’d have a chat. If John was having a bad day…not quite unlike the one they just had, Amy would distract him.

They became good friends, Amy and John. But right now, John wasn’t sure even Amy could cheer him up.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly, leaning in the kitchen doorway with her arms folded. All he could do was nod in return. “Do you want to talk?” John always said yes to that question. They always talked about London, the war, Sherlock…She understood. She always did.

Today was different though. He never had days this bad.

So Amy made the tea this time and they sat in silence. It was so quiet, but she knew John needed some time to himself and John appreciated that.

Amy wasn’t expecting him to break the silence. In fact, she wasn’t expecting what came at all.

“I want to go home,” John whispered.

 

XXX

 

The Doctor, meanwhile, was pacing in the console room. What happened with John…they almost lost him and he was determined not to let anything like that happen again. He thought John was getting better. He just needed to keep a closer eye on him, that’s all. But would that work? Would that be enough?

Just then, John came into the room accompanied by Amy. She squeezed his arm and looked at him encouragingly before leaving. When she was gone, John started to talk about London and home and it was all so very very wrong. No. This couldn’t be happening now. It wasn’t time yet.

Sure, technically he _could_ take John back to London, of course- he was a time lord and time wasn’t the boss of him- but the TARDIS was being stubborn. Believe me, he would have had John home the first time he asked, but whenever he tried to land in 2015, they’d spin off into a different time zone, in a different galaxy, to a different world. Every time they landed somewhere, he would brush it off and act as if it was all a part of the plan.

He didn’t know what the old girl was trying to tell him. I mean, obviously _he_ thought it was time for John to go, but she just wouldn’t…

_Oh._

Maybe she wasn’t so concerned with what the Doctor thought was best. It was John’s life, after all. The Doctor was so worried he didn’t take the time to wonder if John himself was ready to leave. He was too wrapped up in fixing him, he didn’t even think…John had always said he was ready, he always said he wanted to go, but his ship knew better.

And now perhaps it was time.

He felt the old girl hum under his fingers as he made his way over to John, beaming.

“Are you sure you’re ready, John?”

Hands balled into fists at his side, John nodded.

“Alright. To London it is!” He twirled, but stopped halfway through, halting before throwing the TARDIS into the vortex. “On one condition.” John looked at him confused. He knew that look. He’d seen it in Sherlock’s eyes so often before. It was the look before Sherlock started begging him to get out of bed and go sleuthing around at midnight. It was the look the Doctor always wore when he knew Amy and Rory were in bed and John couldn’t sleep. It was the look he wore when he tried to convince John to go on adventures, just the two of them.

It wasn’t a look he wanted to see right now.

“No, Doctor-,”

“Just hear me out-,” he started defensively, hands going up. John rolled his eyes and walked past him towards the TARDIS doors.

“No! I don’t want another adventure!” John snapped. “I don’t want you wasting any more time on me trying to make me happy. It isn’t working and you know it. All this,” he gestured towards the console and the bright lights, “it’s all just one huge mistake. All it is is a distraction and I’m tired of running. I’m tired,” he added more quietly.

The Doctor paused. “I know,” he answered solemnly. “And so am I.” With a snap of his fingers, the TARDIS doors opened. John was so busy trying to convince the Doctor, he didn’t even notice they’d moved. The Doctor grabbed John’s hand and pulled him out the doors.

“Doctor.” No response. They were walking the streets of London, nowhere near his flat. “Doctor, where are we going-,”

“John,” the Doctor whined, looking over his shoulder at him, eyes pleading, “just trust me.”

 

XXX

 

The Doctor didn’t know what he was doing. He hardly ever did. He didn’t even notify Sherlock they were coming. He didn’t even know if this was the right year or not. Sticking his tongue out and tasting the air, he let out a laugh. Yes! This was 2015 alright. Thanking his ship, he set off happily, navigating John through the crowds of people, John all the while apologizing and glaring at the Doctor.

Coming to a stop, he let go of John’s hand and John looked up at the building in front of them confused. Before the Doctor buzzed for Sherlock, he whirled about.

“John, there’s something I have to tell you. Please promise not to hit me.” Pressing the button now, he said hurriedly, “Hello! It’s the Doctor! Do you mind coming down? That friend I’ve been talking to you about, he’s here and I think he wants to meet you!” He turned around and gave a thumbs up, beaming.

“Hang on- are you setting me up?” John accused, eyebrows furrowing in slight anger.

“What? No no!”

“Is this a date? Doctor- this isn’t why I want to come home.”

“No, I know! It’s not a girl, I promise, I just want you to-,”

“ _Not_ a girl? For God’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you people- I’m _not_ gay!”

“I never said you were, but I wouldn’t have a problem with it. John, just wait a few more seconds-,”

“I’m going home, Doctor.” John said with a horrible finality as he started off down the street. The Doctor glanced at the door, panicking. Why wasn’t he at the door already?

“No, John-,”

“No,” John turned around and finally, finally the door behind the Doctor opened, “Whether you like it or not, Doctor, I’m-…,” the color drained immediately from his face. His words died in his throat, for there, standing in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth agape…was Sherlock.

“John?”

He just stared at him, rejecting the possibility.

No.

It couldn’t be.

But he looked at the Doctor and he knew. It couldn’t be a dream.

He could see him, too.

Slowly, he walked over to Sherlock, taking him in, scared that if he started running towards him he would disappear. Sherlock, he noticed, was a little thinner than he used to be. His buttons weren’t struggling to keep his shirt from flying apart. But it was him. He was so close to him now and neither of them said a word.

It was John who spoke first.

“You bastard,” he whispered, a film of unshed tears in his eyes. And then he punched him. Sherlock had been expecting it and let him take the swing, knowing he deserved so much more for leaving him like he did.

He held John in his arms as he cursed him, tears falling down his face now. Sherlock buried his face in John’s neck.

 _He was sorry, he was sorry,_ Sherlock said over and over.

 _You’re alive, you’re alive,_ John said in return.

 

XXX

 

“You knew? You knew all this time and you never said.”

“How could I have said it?”

“Oh, I dunno. A simple ‘hey, John, turns out your best friend isn’t actually dead you can stop moping now’ would’ve been fine.” The Doctor laughed.

“You wouldn’t have believed me.”

“I suppose not.” A beat passed before he said, “Thank you, Doctor.”

The Doctor gave a nod, smiling as he finished his tea. He had come back to visit one last time and as much as he enjoyed John and Sherlock’s flat, he knew he had to leave. Amy and Rory had already said their goodbyes earlier. Now, it was his turn for his.

“Well! I best be off.” He started, jumping out of his seat. “New adventures to have, new worlds to see, you know.”

“You’ll come back, won’t you? Sherlock doesn’t want to admit it, but I think he wants to see your TAR-,”

“No, I don’t. Don’t associate me with your fantasies, John.” Sherlock’s muffled voice berated him from the other room. John gave a longsuffering sigh before extending his hand in farewell. The Doctor took it.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a low voice, “I always come back. You’ll see me again!” Hopping down the stairs, the Doctor pivoted about for one last glance at his friend. “I love Christmas.”

And with that, John said goodbye to the Doctor.

 

XXX

 

He did indeed come that Christmas, bearing gifts for everyone. For Sherlock, he had a scarf and for John a new jumper. John introduced Sherlock to Amy and Rory and they all went out for drinks at the pub down the street. Somewhere along the line, the Doctor managed to get Sherlock into a Santa hat and they went caroling for a bit. Sherlock was fuming and John couldn’t stop laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

It turned out to be one of the best Christmases they’d had in while.

The Doctor didn’t visit much after that. A couple of times he came and once Sherlock even went along. John knew he secretly enjoyed being on the ship, but he’d never show it. There was a fascination in his eyes, deeply hidden behind his mask and he got a kick out of the Doctor trying again and again to impress him.

But those days are long gone.  

The Doctor hardly comes to see them now. But, in retrospect, that probably wasn’t such a bad thing. With the Doctor came good days, saving others and bringing joy to those who needed it. He knew. He was one of the people the Doctor tried to save. But with the Doctor there also came danger and he didn’t need any more of that. He has Sherlock.

And that’s all he really needs.

 

 


End file.
